


Hollywood Nights

by FleetSparrow



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Double Penetration, Golden Age Hollywood, Incest Kink, Incest Triangle, Love Triangles, M/M, POV First Person, Period Typical Bigotry, Pseudo-Incest, Slurs, Spitroasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: Bruce is an aging Hollywood star trying to make a comeback.Damian is his son, a young star on the rise.Dick is the young lover caught in the middle.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne/Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	Hollywood Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lolahaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahaze/gifts).



I am supposed to be writing the comeback script for aging matinee idol Bruce Wayne, the hero who gave Basil Carlo a run for his money back in the day. What am I doing instead?

Well, currently, I’m getting my brains fucked out by Bruce’s son.

Damian’s a darker version of his father: a bit of that exotic look that was the flavor about twenty years ago, but only on white guys; and that false wholesomeness that comes from being raised in a Hollywood family. I’ve seen his mother, made love to her on screen dozens of times, but even she doesn’t hold a candle to what she and Bruce created.

Let me go back a bit, to where it began.

My name’s Dick Grayson. If you’ve seen a Paramount movie in the last fifteen years, you’ve seen all the players in this drama. Let’s start with the crux of this little angle I’ve worked myself into.

Bruce Wayne, one of the few from the late silents to make it all the way into sound and Technicolor. Unfortunately, he’s old, which, by Hollywood standards means he’s hit the big Five-Oh. Not grandfather material, really, but he’s about to be cast as such. He’s been turning down roles left and right, waiting behind his millions to find the Perfect Role to make his comeback. He’s got it better than most, really. Like I said, he’s a bit Carlo, a bit Fairbanks, and a bit Bogart. Bogart’s in his fifties and still making movies! But then, Bruce doesn’t much like the gangster roles. Probably hits too close to home, what with his constant dalliances with that well known moll, Selina Kyle. But, I digress.

Then there’s Bruce’s son, Damian. You’ve already met him, he of the aforementioned exotic wholesomeness. He was a big star as a kid, back when he was cute, but now he’s all grown up and wants to cut his teeth on a bigger role. Namely, gangster pictures and detective stories. Hmm, that could explain Bruce’s reticence toward them.

Me? Right, I’m the third part of this angle. Or maybe I’m the crux. I’ve never been a math whiz.

Someone once described me as, “If you’ve seen Valentino, you’ve seen Dick Grayson, but not the other way ‘round.” Ouch. I think it was Hedda Hopper. Sadly, I think she was doing me more justice than not. I’m much more a Crash Corrigan than a Valentino, even on my best days. You need a swashbuckler? You call Errol Flynn. I’m just your pirate who jumps around the sails and rigging. You need a dancer? You call Astaire. I’m just the “Gypsy lover” who gets shot in the third act.

So, yeah, the acting thing wasn’t going great.

But that wasn’t always my thing anyway. I just want to entertain people. Sure, I started in the circus, and maybe I’ll go back there one day. That’s where Hollywood found me, by the way. They were doing a circus picture, and Haly’s happened to be in town and cheap, so me and my folks got in. That movie was a disaster, but it made me stick around Tinsel Town.

I’m trying my hand at writing now, which is where I fit in to this current picture.

Bruce Wayne had seen me in that circus pic--he’d been the lead in the A story and we weren’t even the B story; like I said, kind of a disaster of a film--and, after everything that happened, he took an interest in me. He set me up in my apartment, became sort of a patron for me. He’s the reason I got most of the roles I did, to be fair. One thing you have to understand about Bruce is that the act he puts on for the camera, the act he puts on for the public, and his real self in private are three very different people. I fell in love with him, the real him, but he was so rarely that version of himself that we drifted apart.

Don’t get me wrong, the sex was amazing. But a guy can only handle so many public affairs, you know?

Bruce being my patron is how I happened to be the one he brought on to write his comeback script. I’d sold a couple of scripts--a little too hopeful, the producers said, but they could always break Pollyanna--but I wasn’t doing any serious writing at the time. Bruce stopped the lease on my apartment, saying it’d be more economical to have me live in his house--well, it’s a mansion, let’s not mince words--with him. And, to be perfectly honest, I’m not writing him a script from nothing. He’s got one he’s been tinkering with for the past half a dozen years.

I’ve read it.

It’s epic, it’s bloated, and it’s way past its sell by date.

Did I mention how good the sex is, though?

Which reminds me. Sex is where you came in. Let’s get back to that.

I’m on my back, practically bent double, while Damian’s pounding away into me. Fuck, he’s good. He must’ve inherited that from his dad. I’ve already come twice, while Damian’s still going to town. Hoo boy, to have that kind of stamina again.

The door opens and Bruce doesn’t quite burst into the room so much as the room shrinks to announce his entrance. It’s an odd effect, but one that’s served him so well in flicks. There’s something about him that makes you stop and take notice.

At least, I stop and take notice. Damian just keeps fucking me like we don’t suddenly have an audience.

“Shut the door, Father,” Damian says. “Grayson will catch a draft.”

Did I mention that I’m the only one naked in this scene? Because I am, and I wasn’t really feeling it a moment ago.

Bruce shuts the door with him on the inside. He’s looking at me. Not at how I’m getting fucked, but directly into my eyes. The intensity of this man never fades. No wonder he’d been a god among Silents.

I say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Wanna join?”

OK, yep, my brain’s definitely been fucked out of me.

Bruce is still staring at me and it takes a moment of watching his eyes to realize he’s walking toward me. In fact, his eyes are getting closer by the second. He blinks and that allows me to drop my gaze.

Right to his cock.

Huh. Wonder when he pulled that bad boy out.

That thought gives me a half second’s pause before he’s kneeling on the bed, feeding that giant cock to me. I gag on it as he pushes all the way in, cutting off my air.

Fuck, it feels like old times.

He thrusts into my mouth in opposite time to Damian in my ass. As one cock goes in, one pulls out. I feel like I’m being flossed. I’ve been staring down my nose, going cross-eyed as I watch his cock disappear between my lips, but now I look up and find that he’s not even looking at me.

That gaze is turned on Damian, and Damian’s giving it right back.

Damian breaks the rhythm first, and now they’re pounding into me at the same time. I’m hard again, but I can’t even do anything about it. I’m stuck holding my legs up and apart for Damian. My cock’s leaking onto my abdomen, and I’m all but crying at the sheer pleasure of this. I know it’s going to end--it has to end eventually--but honestly, I don’t know what kind of condition I’ll be in when it does. It feels like both of them are marking me for themselves when they both suddenly grab me and shoot their loads directly into me. I groan and gurgle around Bruce’s cock as I swallow what I can to stop from choking. The feeling of being filled at both ends is enough that I come for a third time, this time untouched.

They stay inside me until they go soft, pulling out with almost regretful hesitance. I think we’re all aware that whatever relationship we’d had previously has been thoroughly smashed.

Bruce and Damian tuck their cocks back inside their pants, leaving me spread out and boneless on the bed. They’re still staring at each other. Any second now, they’re going to start circling each other like roosters fighting over the same hen.

“You have my attention,” Bruce says first. “That’s what you wanted.”

Damian clicks his tongue. “He’s closer to my age anyway, old man.”

“Still in the room,” I manage to say. They both glare at me as if to say, “Hush, the adults are talking.”

I finally lower my legs back down to the bed, breathing into the stretch. Thank god I’m as flexible as I am, or this would’ve hurt a lot more than just my pride.

They’ve gone back to silent staring, daring the other to make the next move.

I’m getting bored.

“Well, when you two finish your dick measuring contest, I’ll be downstairs,” I say, getting up and pulling on Bruce’s robe. “ _Writing_.”

Which is where I am now. Looking back, I can see where things went wrong.

One: Never allow yourself to have sex with your patron/boyfriend’s son.

Two: If you must have sex with said son, don’t do it on patron/boyfriend’s bed. That’s just bad manners.

Three:

OK, I can’t think of a third. All I keep thinking of was that was probably the best sex of my life and now I’ve ruined it before I can get it again.

Dinner’s an awkward affair. We all sit at the long dining room table meant for ten that’s currently seating three; Bruce at the head, Damian at the end, and me, smack dab in the middle. They’ve gone from cockfight to cold indifference, not looking at each other, not speaking to each other.

And not speaking to me.

“Look,” I begin during dessert, and, yes, it has taken me this long to work up the nerve, don’t judge me. “Obviously, that wasn’t the best way to find out what’s going on. But isn’t it better that you both know?”

They look at me.

“Know what, Dick?” Bruce asks, his voice terrifyingly cool.

“I’m attracted to you both. Maybe I even love you both, I don’t know yet.” Now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop. “But I’m not going to stay in a house where you two just glare at each other and ignore what happened. We can work through this. It’s just going to take both of you.”

Neither of them speak.

“Anyway,” I finish, lamely, “I thought it was hot.”

Damian starts laughing.

Then Bruce.

And they keep laughing.

Heh.

  
Heh heh.

I’m in danger.

Finally, they stop.

Damian’s half wheezing as he tries to control himself. Bruce is smiling over his water glass.

“Dick,” Bruce says. “I think that’s the one thing we agree on.”

Damian nods, gulping down a drink. “I’m willing to do it again.”

Oh.

Well, then.

“So,” I ask. “Whose room this time?”


End file.
